


snow and pine needles

by n_u_t_m_e_g



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_u_t_m_e_g/pseuds/n_u_t_m_e_g
Summary: Lavellan is wounded on the battlefield and he ponders his life lying in Dorian's arms.





	snow and pine needles

 Looking back, Hanin never really thought about _dying._ Sure, he thought about death, and that he’d likely die before he ever had a chance to see his family again, but he never really thought about the details of actually dying.  
The Emprise du Lion seems colder than ever, and as Lavellan lays in the snow he realizes he’s never been colder in his life.  
The world is coming in soft, blurred pulses; Hanin groans out loud, breath catching in his throat at the end as a tearing shock of pain shoots from the wound in his chest.  
Hanin tilts his head forward just enough to glance at the sword impaled in his sternum, but the sight makes his eyes wrench closed and his stomach grow queasy and he lets his head fall back into the snow.  
The sounds of battle around him are dying down- somewhere far away he hears Varric shout, but as hard as Hanin tries he can’t seem to understand what’s being said.

Hanin feels like he’s beneath a waterfall- if he closes his eyes he can almost imagine he’s back in the Free Marches,  standing underneath that warm waterfall the clan would often camp by during the summer. But he knows that there’s no waterful, no hot summer air, and no Hallen or Mamae just over the ridge. He knows the water, and the pulsing, is the blood pouring from his chest and down into the snow.  
At some point, his hair must’ve fallen down because strands of it are stuck to the sweat on his face, cutting the trees above him with wavy black lines.    
The funny thing is, Hanin never really thought he’d die before they killed Corypheus.  He’d thought he’d maybe die during _that_ battle, but he’d always thought he would kill Corypheus first.  
As Lavellan lays in the snow, sword in his chest, he finds he’s never felt so empty in his life.  
Around him things have gone silent, and beside him, Dorian’s face comes into view. There’s something wrong with him, it seems, because he looks like he might faint. Hanin tries to say something, to say hello, to ask him why he looks _so_ sad, but all that leaves his lips is a gurgling gasp.

Hanin knits his brow and and frowns.  Dorian is too beautiful to look so sad, there’s a deep line between those lovely brows, and his soft, gray-green eyes are wide.  
Suddenly, Hanin is panicking. He tries to sit up, tries to reach for Dorian, but something has him pinned to the ground. A deep, wet shock jolts through him but he ignores it because suddenly there’s tears dripping from Dorian’s lashes and Hanin’s gut clenches because why is Dorian so upset? Has something happened? Hanin doesn’t understand _he doesn’t understand_ -

Dorian is holding him, his head on Dorian’s thighs and his face in Dorian's hands.

There’s tears dripping onto his cheeks and Dorian is screaming something, turning to call for someone, but suddenly Hanin is taken with how lovely Dorian looks. He’d never anticipate finding love in a shem, much less a _Tevinter_ , but somehow he did. The curve of Dorian’s jaw is dramatic when he’s turned like he is, and Hanin tries to say Dorian’s name but he finds himself coughing and something warm and wet sputters out of his lips instead of words. But the call for attention works, and Dorian turns back to look at him.  
Hanin smiles, and that must’ve been the wrong thing to do because Dorian lets out a sob. Varric and Blackwall are in his line of vision now but Lavellan can’t be bothered to pay attention to them because something is wrong with Dorian, Lavellan doesn’t understand why Dorian is crying and he doesn’t understand why his body is so _cold_ and he can’t really remember where he is but he wants Hallen, he wants his Mamae, he wants _Dorian_ but Dorian is _here_ and Hanin is so afraid, he’s never been so afraid and he doesn’t know _why_.

Above him, Dorian is screaming what sounds like his name, but the words are unfamiliar and blurred together. The world has grown suddenly dimmer, and Hanin is more tired than he’s been in a long, long time.  
He’s caught again, on the line of Dorian’s jaw- he blinks slowly at Dorian’s face, wondering where in his life he did enough to deserve Dorian, Dorian’s love and the touch of his hands, the glance of his eyes when he thinks Lavellan isn’t looking, and Hanin wants to do _everything_ with this man; he wants to see every corner of Thedas with Dorian at his side, he wants to save the world and save the people of Thedas with Dorian behind him, he wants to do _everything_ and he reaches a hand up to touch Dorian’s face, and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life but he _does it_ , he cups Dorian’s jaw in his hands and he opens his mouth to say _vhenan,_ _emma lath_ , but nothing comes out and the world is so dark and it’s hard to breath and he hurts, he _hurts-_


End file.
